


Help You to Help Me

by quixotics



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (not super graphic but kinda), Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Development, Curse Breaking, Curses, Eventual Smut, Insecurity, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use, Memory Related, Minor Injuries, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Slow Burn, Sorcerers, Spells & Enchantments, Violence, War, Witches, Wizards, howls moving castle au!, tell me oikawa doesnt remind you of howl i dare you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quixotics/pseuds/quixotics
Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime gets cursed at a bad time.Ironically, an equally cursed Wizard named Oikawa Tooru just might be the cure.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru & Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 22
Kudos: 26





	1. It Started with a Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! this is my first fic on here and one of my longest writing endeavors to date. the story is mostly plotted out to its entirety (but subject to change...) so updates should be pretty quick. 
> 
> before reading, I HIGHLY recommend watching the excellent Howl's Moving Castle movie (at least the trailer) or reading the book. I took a lot of major + minor elements from both, so if you wanted to see the direction the story is going or understand the general background/plot better, it's there for you. not 100% necessary but definitely adds to the experience.
> 
> please enjoy and feel free to talk to me in the comments :)

Iwaizumi Hajime is not anything special. 

It’s not meant to be something bad, it’s just a fact, one that Iwaizumi himself has long come to terms with. Although, “come to terms” may be the wrong expression here. He's never tried to deny his mundanity in the first place.

There’s security in the ordinary, after all. 

His family owned a modest plant therapeutics clinic, tucked between a hat shop and fruit stall along Seijoh's main street. Iwaizumi’s father had inherited the business from his grandfather, and his father before that, and before that, and before that. 

He knew since childhood the path his life would take. 

Iwaizumi never thought it was a burden though. He loved their little family shop, with its neatly stacked shelves of greenery, vials of powders and seeds, from the persistent smell of medicinal herbs to the wide front facing windows that opened onto a bustling marketplace. 

He loved the memories here, from catching moths in the spring, to the times he’s had to chase away his sisters’ suitors, to watching the annual May Day fireworks from the awning outside. There’s so much of Iwaizumi himself shoved into this little place that moving away from it felt impossible anyway. 

There are days however, when Iwaizumi wonders what it’d be like if things were different—if he’d been born later, into a different family. Of course, he’s human. 

That uncertain feeling usually crept in when his sisters ran off and he’s alone in the silence left in their wake. He wonders what it’d be like, briefly, but always shakes the thought away quickly, despite an inexplicable feeling remaining in his chest long after. 

Hanami once asked if he was happy. He said yes because he is, he meant it. But along with that resolution, he wants to know if there’s more to this. More to his life in their family business, as the older brother, more to the ordinary that he’s so used to. 

He wonders if he could be part of that something more. 

**\---**

“Did you hear about that Wizard on the Hill? I heard from Jenny that her cousin’s friend went missing when the Castle came by.”

“That psycho again? That’s what my mother said too! Stay away when it comes back around, girls have been going missing left and right these days.”

“It gives me the shivers just thinking about it. He’s seriously wicked if he thinks he can keep getting away with this.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes from where he’s bent beneath the front counter packaging dried canola flowers for the two girls. The petals crumble beneath his fingers as he picks out the shrivelled bits. 

_That Wizard on the Hill sure is a funny guy. Kidnapping girls half his age and still performing public service acts under the same name,_ Iwaizumi wants to retort to the two girls, noting the discrepancy in their gossip. 

The Wizard on the Hill had been around for as long as Iwaizumi could remember. The massive Castle that roamed Seijoh’s rolling hills was a part of their little town at this point, a popular tourist attraction even. 

The structure was huge, difficult to approach and impossible to catch, so high that the very tip of it was often obscured by the clouds of cool air that floated down from the Wasteland mountains. 

During Seijoh's thunderstorms, the Castle would stop, only its shadowy shape visible behind falling sheets of rain, like some lurking creature watching over their little town. Other days, the Castle would vanish, simply disappear only to reappear a few days later as if it’d never been gone. 

The Wizard on the Hill was the magician that lived there. He was an enigma, that one. His notoriety came from the stories people told of him, although in these last few years, those stories had morphed from praises of good deeds to hushed whispers of intrigued fear. Iwaizumi didn't believe any of the new rumours. 

He doesn’t quite know why he has such a good impression of the Wizard. 

The girls’ conversation lapses after a bit and Iwaizumi straightens to hand over the bag. “Here you are, make sure to soak these in some moonshine for a day."

One of the girls—the one with the friend named Jenny—digs around her handbag for money. The other girl looks up at Iwaizumi and blinks a few times as if she hadn’t seen him properly when they came in.

The girl with the friend named Jenny hands over a handful of coins, Iwaizumi counts them quickly and bobs his head in thanks, “I hope they help.” 

The girls leave, the little bell above the door tinkling as the door opens and closes. The one who stared at him earlier throws him a backward glance before clinging onto her friend’s arm and leaning in to whisper something. Iwaizumi sighs and hopes he didn’t scare her away. 

“Y’know she thought you were handsome right?” 

Iwaizumi scoffs as he turns to face Hayako, emerging from the back room with a box in her arms. 

“Yeah! I bet that’s what she was whispering to her friend,” Hanami adds, following in after her sister with a smaller package and a stack of papers. 

She sets down the pile next to Hayako’s box and before Iwaizumi could tell her to move it, she faces him with her hands on her hips. “You’re not very good at taking a hint, clearly.” 

_Not much of a hint when it looked like she was gonna faint in fear when I looked at her,_. 

If anything, he's a pretty decent judge of character. Years of watching over Hanami and Hayako meant a deeply-attuned sense to the sort of presence other people gave off, beyond that of their outward appearance. That girl, whoever she was, was no more attracted to Iwaizumi than he was to her. 

“I beg to differ. Now move this, I don’t want the new delivery of herbs around this,” Iwaizumi gestures to the first box. 

“What is it?” 

Hanami moves her pile and leans over Hayako’s shoulder to peer down at the first package. 

The box itself is inconspicuous enough, cream coloured and free of any design, but atop the lid is a strange label. It shimmers, white-gold specks of magic floating just above the paper, hiding any writing that might've been there.

“I don’t know, don’t get too close to it,” Iwaizumi warns, ducking down to grab a pair of long tweezers. 

Hanami snorts, “Too late for Hayako-neesan.” 

Hayako shoves Hanami and backs away with her arms crossed, “Thanks for telling me that now."

Magic is by no means uncommon in Miyagi, but for common folk who rarely come into direct contact with it, it’s an unpredictably elusive element. Their schools purposely kept education about magic to the bare minimum, leaving the bulk of its mysteries and dangers to private, specialized institutions for future Wizards. 

It's only legally allowed in small doses to the public, completely unseen to the untrained eye. For the box to contain such an obvious showing of magic made Iwaizumi incredibly cautious. 

“Hayako, was this left in our mailbox? Or outside the shop?” 

“Outside the shop, in front of the door we enter from,” Hayako says and rubs her arms, “I saw the magic and assumed it was dad sending us something from the capital about what’s happening on the war front.” 

“The door _we_ enter from? As in the employee one?” Iwaizumi asks incredulously. Hayako nods, no doubt thinking the same thing as him. 

That door is inaccessible from outside, attached to a walled pathway that leads to their house. Unless someone broke in, the only way to pass it through was with magic. 

Iwaizumi pauses and shakes his head, choosing to ignore that fact for now. “Dad wouldn’t send us anything with magic this strong. He never even liked that mom had a natural affinity for it, this isn’t from him.” 

Hayako purses her lips and doesn’t reply. 

“Will you open it already?” Hanami asks, excited. 

Iwaizumi snatches his hand back before she could reach for the tweezers. “Nuh-uh, both of you five steps back.” Hanami scrunches her face up in protest but does as she’s told. 

“You know we could just leave it alone right? Or call someone to come deal with it?” Hayako suggests after she’s also backed away further. 

“You don’t think I can handle this?”

“No I really don’t. What if it blows up or something? Maybe it was left here by accident, don’t risk it.” 

“It wasn’t left here by accident, you said yourself you found it in front of the employee door,” Hanami says and to Iwaizumi, “Don’t listen to her, open it.” Hayako smacks Hanami and looks at her brother worriedly. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Be careful.”

 _I’ll just check the label,_ Iwaizumi thinks, _just to see what it says._

The tweezers spark as he lowers them to the label’s edge. Just before the two make contact, a _pop_ goes off and light bursts from the box.

The tweezers drop to the ground, metal sizzling.

“Fuck!” Iwaizumi squats and grips his wrist in pain, hand beginning to blister. Hanami is at his side in an instant, kicking the burning tweezers toward the door. 

“Oh shit are you okay?” 

It doesn’t feel like a normal burn.

For someone who spent their late childhood distilling flowers, flesh wounds from hot steam and water were as common as bruises. This burn feels _nothing_ like those ones. It feels like an electrical current had charged up through his skin and was trying to dissolve it through. The blisters bubble up fast, each one feeling like a small jolt of electricity trying to escape. 

“Here, rub this on your fingers,” Hayako passes him a broken piece of aloe vera from a nearby plant, “Hanami, go get some cold water.” 

Iwaizumi grips the plant in his left hand and squeezes it over the burn, gasping as the cool gel slides over the blisters and falls to the ground. It doesn’t help. 

Hanami returns with a water jug and begins pouring it over her brother’s hand in a steady stream. Iwaizumi heaves a breath when the water splashes against his skin, a tingling feeling rushing up his arm and contracting his muscles. His arm stiffens and starts to go numb, sweat beginning to gather at the collar of his shirt. 

“Stop, stop—oh my _fuck_ —Hanami stop.” He swears he could see lines of electricity flashing around his fingers as the water streamed down. 

The burning sensation pulsates through the rest of Iwaizumi’s body and his legs begin to tremble. He gnashes his teeth together to keep the black spots in his vision from getting too large. 

“Shit, shit what do we do? What should we do?” Hanami sets the water jug down and rakes her hands through her hair, desperately looking around at the shop to find something that could help. 

“Call a Wizard, that’s what I said in the first place!” 

“I didn’t _think_ that was going to happen! We could try snapper leaves? Or blue-” 

“No Hanami, you don’t ever think!” Hayako interrupts, more angry than panicked, “Whatever just happened to Hajime-neechan is completely outside of our expertise.” 

“So what should we do then? Wait?! We don’t know what’s gonna happen if-” 

“Stop it! Both of you,” Iwaizumi braces himself against the counter ledge and grits out his words. “No one is calling anyone, just d-don’t touch the box and let me think.” 

Truthfully, he’s a little scared. The fire running up and down the length of his arm is growing hotter by the minute, his ears are ringing and his chest feels tight. There’s no way they can call a magician though. The cost for personal services is high, too high. 

“Hayako, Hanami get far away from the shop. Go,” Iwaizumi grunts as a hot flash passes through his arm again, “Home for now.” 

“Are you crazy?” Hanami exclaims as Hayako reaches down to tug his left hand away out of the iron grip it has on his right.

“Not without you,” Hayako says, Hanami slipping herself beneath his left armpit. 

Iwaizumi gasps again as his right arm is left unsupported and waves of tingling fire light up his arm. His knees nearly buckle from the pain. If it weren’t for Hanami bearing half his weight, he would’ve collapsed to the floor.

“Ha-Hanami stop, I can walk,” Iwaizumi wheezes out, despite his vision blurring. He doesn’t want Hanami to bump into his arm by accident. He squeezes his eyes shut, blinks them rapidly and wills his body to stop shaking so he can upright himself. 

Hanami says something in response and then Hayako is shouting but Iwaizumi can’t hear them properly as the black spots finally eat up his vision and he faints.


	2. In Which Iwaizumi Finds More Than He Bargained For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa makes an appearance.

Two days pass before Iwaizumi regains consciousness. 

Turns out Hanami and Hayako had dragged him back home, balancing his unconscious body between the two of them all the way to their house. They had closed the shop indefinitely and hadn’t been back since. 

They hadn’t called a Wizard either which Iwaizumi was thankful for, opting to watch over him throughout the last two days on rotation. 

It’s a rare reversal of their typical roles. 

Iwaizumi had woken up naturally, memory a little fuzzy and vision a little blurry. When his thoughts finally caught up to him, he’d looked down at his right arm in a panic, scared to find it missing or irreparably damaged. 

He felt no traces of that electrical fire, his mobility unhindered and painless. He could bend his arm, curl and flex his fingers the way he always could. Everything about his arm _felt_ normal, but it was clear something had happened.

Iwaizumi’s veins were black. 

From the thin spidery ones across the backs of his knuckles, up to the prominent ones in his forearms and to the crook of his elbow, his veins resembled blackened tree roots. 

"They just kind of appeared overnight," Hayako said when Iwaizumi asked. 

When Hanami and Hayako finally left him to his own devices after countless “are you okays” and exasperated “I’m fines,” Iwaizumi had gotten up and rummaged through his dresser for a pair of scissors. 

The shallow cut he made across those blackened veins bled red. It'd been a reassuring sight, that crimson colour so often associated with injury and pain now acted as a comfort. He wouldn't have known what to do if some other colour bled out instead. 

The uneasiness didn't settle in the next few days however. There were still too many unanswered questions and risks that Iwaizumi couldn’t ignore: the box, where it came from, who sent it, why, what happened to his hand and what he should do now. 

Just thinking about dealing with it all made Iwaizumi’s head hurt. 

\---

It took exactly one week for Hayako to convince Iwaizumi to “go find a goddamn Wizard.” 

He really didn't want to. People with magic were always tricky, their words latent with misdirection and ambiguity. 

Iwaizumi had spent the week buried in books about magic at an old bookstore, finally giving up four days in when he stopped convincing himself he could understand what they said. He'd turned to rummaging through old files from the clinic that might clue him on who might’ve sent the box instead. 

_Who is petty enough to hold a grudge against a place that sells plant medicine?_

He knew his efforts were fruitless, but a part of him wanted to solve this alone. Call it pride or call it stubbornness, Iwaizumi wanted to protect himself and his sisters on his own. 

_Take care of your mom and your sisters while I’m gone okay? You’re a man now Hajime, make me proud._

It was frustrating. 

Keeping the clinic closed for any longer would be a hit to their business, even as Hanami and Hayako worked with what they had on hand to complete orders. With May Day around the corner, their most profitable period was quickly approaching. They were crunched for time and so, Iwaizumi caved to his sister's suggestion. 

\---

Iwaizumi sets out early to find a Wizard about a week before May Day celebrations. 

Their town is a picture of brightly decorated streets, walls painted in Seijoh’s colours, flags fluttering from rooftops with banners and streamers strung up around doorways in patriotism. 

Higher up on the mountains, the Castle floats by leisurely. It'd drift down closer for the Parade as it always does and the excitement lifts Iwaizumi’s somewhat sour mood, making him set his shoulders in determination. 

By five, that set to his shoulders falls to a near defeated slouch. 

The one well-known Wizard in Seijoh—Kunimi or whatever his name is—hadn’t been in his shop, a clerk answering instead. They hadn’t known where their mentor was and chalked it up to the war efforts. 

“They’ve been asking for everyone to go to the capital these days, I’d guess that’s where’d they be,” they’d answered nonchalantly.

Iwaizumi looks down at his right hand wrapped in cloth and makes a fist.

No pain. 

He sighs and decides to skip dinner to look for an alchemy place that might know someone who could help. He’s passing an alleyway behind a bakery, contemplating how he'd explain their situation when he pauses. 

A girl, no older than Hanami, was backed into a corner by two city guards, and Iwaizumi’s walking over before he can think it through.

“Aw c’mon, you don’t want to have some fun with us? We know some-”

“Are these guys bothering you?” Iwaizumi crosses his arms at the two guards, both shorter but a few years older than him. 

“No, I-uh-”

“Who’s this?”

“That’s um-” The girl looks between the guards and Iwaizumi, debating which was the safer option to side with. 

“Hey look I respect you guys, keeping our city safe and all,” Iwaizumi gives the girl a pointed look, “but she’s a little uncomfortable here." The guard with a beard raises an eyebrow at him, “Oh yeah? Why don’t we ask the little lady, are you uncomfortable?”

The girl’s mouth drops open, surprised at the sudden focus on her. Iwaizumi offers her what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “It’s okay if you are.” 

“Nuh-uh, she has a mouth, let her speak for herself,” the bearded one snickers at the girl’s reaction. 

Iwaizumi’s patience wears thin, not that he had much to begin with in the first place. It’d been a long, _useless_ day and he has so much shit to deal with, the thought of these assholes in (never mind _protecting_ ) Seijoh pushes him over the edge. 

“You’re kidding right? Authority crowding a teenage girl, yeah real comfy situation you fellas got here. You’re grown men, harassing a teenage girl, have some fucking respect will you?” 

No longer amused, the clean shaven guard jabs a finger at Iwaizumi. “Harassing? I don’t know who you are or what business you have shoving your nose into our business, but I think you should let us do our jobs."

Iwaizumi brushes aside the finger and narrows his eyes, “ _Hah?_ Since when is your job making women uncomfortable?” 

“What’d you say?” Iwaizumi is shoved backward. It’s not a particularly hard push but he has to twist to avoid crashing into the girl and sees the incoming fist in his peripheral vision.

A gloved hand settles on Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he falls back against a solid chest and the punch freezes in mid-air. 

“There you are.” 

Iwaizumi straightens quickly, finding a pair of warm brown eyes looking at him. 

His first thought is _holy shit he’s beautiful._

His second is _where’s the girl?_

“Good evening gentlemen, it seems you’ve gotten lost on the way to your posts” the guard throwing the punch trembles in effort to move his fist, frozen mid-motion. “I'm sure I can help you on your way back.” The guy makes some sort of motion with his hand as the guards suddenly spin and march away in unison, objecting in shock.

Iwaizumi stares in the direction they go and then turns his head back around, suspicious. The man is the picture of mirth, with shining eyes and a small smile.

“Where did the girl go?” 

The guy shrugs, “Probably ran away, that show of testosterone really stank up this place,” he says, pinching his nose and fanning the air. 

Strangely, Iwaizumi doesn’t feel like he’s lying. Still, he sizes up the man before him with some wariness. 

He’s tall—taller than him—and dressed expensively in a long red jacket draped over his shoulders. The early evening light haloes his brown hair burgundy, catching on the tear-shaped earrings dangling from his ears and thin golden chain at his throat. 

He certainly dresses like someone with magic and Iwaizumi feels his hackles instinctively rise up even as the rational part of his brain reminds him that _hey this guy could help us._

“So who are you then?” Iwaizumi’s tone is harsh. 

Something flits across the other man’s face, gone in a blink and replaced quickly with amusement. He walks closer to Iwaizumi and taps the tip of his nose. Iwaizumi jumps back, sputtering. 

“What the fuck?” 

“That’s not really important.” 

Well. 

Iwaizumi would be more than happy to ditch and leave this guy anonymous, but the logical part of him tells him not to pass up on this opportunity. Names, real names, held power in and of itself. It's the reason why people with magic often kept them hidden, operating under some sort of title or pseudonym instead.

If Iwaizumi was going to work with one of these slippery bastards, he needed some semblance of control.

“It kind of is. What happened back there? Did the guard just-” 

“Sh.”

Suddenly, the guy grabs Iwaizumi’s hand and drags him down the alleyway, swerving around to another back road. 

“What are you doing? Let go,” he doesn't listen and picks up their speed until they’re both running. Iwaizumi lets himself be dragged for a bit, frankly a little nervous about the grip around his right wrist, until his impatience bubbles over as he's jerked through another sharp turn. 

“I said,” Iwaizumi wrenches his hand away and stops, “Let go.” 

The man looks at him, eyes darting upward and back, expression impassive. 

“Who are you, what the fuck is happening?” 

“I already told you that’s not important,” the guy’s voice is laidback, but Iwaizumi notices the slight tenseness to his shoulders. 

Iwaizumi doesn’t doubt the guy could probably compel him to follow without lifting a finger but he still sets his stance and refuses to move. “The hell it isn’t! What happened back there?”

The Wizard huffs a breath,“Y’know they say curiosity killed the cat.” 

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes and fights the urge to shake the guy. “Good thing I’m not a cat then.”

The man starts, “I-” only to be interrupted by a low whistling sound. A strange pulsing sensation begins in Iwaizumi’s right hand. Iwaizumi looks upward, blinking to see if his eyes are playing tricks on him. 

A gathering cloud of black had appeared above them. 

A sudden burning sensation envelops his arm. Iwaizumi grips it tight with his left hand and tucks it behind his back, fighting to keep from wincing. The Wizard notices Iwaizumi’s movement and frowns, glancing up at the growing black swarm above them. The swarm writhes and twists, the low whistling growing higher in frequency. 

“Your arm, that’s some pretty powerful sorcery.” 

Iwaizumi freezes, “What?” But the man is already turning away from him, pressing his hand flat against the alley wall. The air around them collapses inward and a whirling pool of obsidian spreads beneath the Wizard’s fingers. 

“We gotta go,” the man doesn’t let Iwaizumi to protest and grabs his hand again, pulling him toward the portal he drew up. 

“Are you stupid?” Iwaizumi yanks his arm back and retreats to the opposite side of the alley, “I’m not letting you drag me around without an explanation.”

The two of them stare at each other like that, backlit against Seijoh’s orange sunset, wind from the portal picking up leaves and pebbles and magic crackling in the air between them. 

It’s intimidating but Iwaizumi's dealt with worse. 

The pain in his right hand grows with every tense second that passes, until it flashes red and hot and Iwaizumi can’t contain the grunt that escapes him. He refuses to break their stare down even if all he wants is to curl up and wait out the pain. 

Thankfully, the Wizard moves first, whipping his head in the direction they’d come from, earrings flashing silver under the sun. Iwaizumi strains to see what he's looking at but when he does, his hand flares up in fire again. 

The black swarm above their heads had begun forming along the shadows of the alley walls.

This time when the Wizard tries to grab him, Iwaizumi is ready and dodges out of the way. He’s in trouble, he knows it. The guy might be able to escape whatever the black swarm was, but Iwaizumi might be a different story. 

He wonders briefly if this was how the girl felt earlier. Trapped between two uncertainties, his father might say it’s “a decision about the lesser evil.”

“Okay, okay look I can… explain all this,” the man waves wildly around him, “If you just follow me. We don't have a lot of time and I don’t want to clean up your remains if you choose to stay.” 

He sticks his hand into the whirling pool of obsidian on the wall and offers a reassuring smile, “See? It’s safe. I’m sorry I dragged you into this, we just need to leave. Like, now. So please.” He seems to contemplate something and adds, “I’ll trade you something in exchange.”

_Ohh there it is. The famed Wizard bargain._

Iwaizumi looks incredulously at the man in front of him, all shiny and a beacon of magical power. His eyes are artlessly open and Iwaizumi doesn't detect any sort of malice (or lie about the clean-up of his potential remains) behind the man’s offer. It takes another split second of deliberation and another burning jolt to run up his arm for him to decide. 

Iwaizumi doesn’t give the guy a response. He purses his lips and shoulders him aside without looking and takes a step into the whirling unknown that awaits him.


	3. In Which Iwaizumi Gets Nothing Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi is suspicious and Oikawa has some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was super fun to write so I hope everyone enjoys! I want to quickly say that while many elements of the story are based on Howl's Moving Castle, there a definitely some BIG differences too.
> 
> I'm open to any sort of feedback so please let me know what you think or if you just want to say hi :)

The tumble through the darkness is fast and nauseating, ending as Iwaizumi is spat out onto a dusty hardwood floor on numb legs. He coughs, disoriented and sees the tail of the Wizard’s jacket emerging from the same portal.

“Ah! Oikawa-san, welcome back,” a voice behind Iwaizumi calls out.

_Oikawa?_

“Yeah yeah Shrimpy-chan, take this,” a blur of red passes over Iwaizumi’s eyes as the jacket is lobbed toward a kid around Hanami’s age coming down a set of wooden stairs. The kid catches, tucks the coat under his arm and rushes back up without sparing another glance at the stranger sitting on the floor. 

The man, _Oikawa_ , walks into the house shrugging off layers as he goes. He discards his waistcoat, untucks his shirt, pulls open the top button and strips off his gloves to reveal a mess of silvery rings on his fingers. He collapses onto a chaise lounge in front of a large fireplace and kicks his feet up onto the stone ledge, head lolling back.

“Oikawa huh?” Iwaizumi doesn’t wait, standing on wobbly knees and brushing the dirt from his pants. Distantly, he realizes his arm feels normal again. 

Iwaizumi supposes it’s a bit of a gamble to just _talk_ to the guy. He blames his earlier outbursts on the situation he was put in but now, with just the two of them in an unfamiliar place, he feels like he should be more careful. 

Except… oddly enough, he feels completely at ease. His instincts don’t tell him to run so Iwaizumi takes that risk and hopes it’ll pay off. 

(If nothing else, the kid from earlier can act as an eyewitness to murder). 

“Shrimpy wasn’t supposed to say that,” the man sighs and rubs his forehead, “But since we’re here and as promised—an exchange,” he slides his gaze over to Iwaizumi, one corner of his mouth turning upward, “I’m Oikawa Tooru. It’s nice to meet you.” 

The way he says it, Iwaizumi can’t help the shudder that runs up his spine. The name carries power, he can practically feel it weighing down the air between them.

_He’s telling the truth._

But then…? 

_A Wizard that so willingly gives up his real name has to have some sort of ulterior motive._

His instincts—that traitor—alert him of nothing, content to let his mind race in disbelief. Sure, Iwaizumi knows he doesn’t pose much of a threat but isn’t this a little careless? Even for an all-powerful Wizard? 

“...but anyway, you are?” It takes a moment for Iwaizumi to realize that Oikawa had been speaking. He clears his throat and debates whether to tell him his real name. 

Yes, he does: Reveals a part of his identity. 

No, he doesn’t: Can probably tell he’s lying, could find out his real name anyway.

Yes, he does: He kind of wants to tell him his real name. 

No, he doesn’t: _Are you out of your mind?_

“Iwaizumi.” 

“Iwaizumi… ?”

“Just Iwaizumi.” He figures it’s safe enough just to give a last name.

Oikawa taps a finger against his chin. “Iwaizumi is kind of a mouthful dont'cha think…” he grins, “Iwa-chan?” 

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at the nickname, overly friendly and almost mocking from how it rolls off Oikawa’s tongue, sugary sweet. The image of him now, teasing and at ease differs so drastically from the man in the alley that Iwaizumi questions which is the real Oikawa, or if this was yet another front.

“No.” 

“Aw that’s no fun Iwa-chan. I’m a busy person,” Oikawa shakes his head, “I can’t waste my precious time saying all these long names and plus, Iwa-chan is so much cuter.” 

“Don’t call me that. You said you’d explain what the fuck happened back there if I followed you, so,” Iwaizumi gives him a pointed look and waits, refusing to be thrown off by the one-eighty change in personality.

“My, my, Iwa-chan moves fast, won’t even let me take a little break,” Oikawa tsks. He stretches his arms up above his head, shirt riding up and exposing a sliver of his lower stomach. It’s smooth and pale, divots of lean muscle carving out shadows along his skin. Iwaizumi catches himself staring a little too late and sees the smirk on Oikawa’s face. 

“Alright then, make yourself at home, this might take a while.” 

Iwaizumi crosses his arms and stands right where he is, “I’ll pass,” he cocks an eyebrow, “Go on.”

“What would Iwa-chan like to know? Ask away.” 

What did he want to know? No, what did he want to know most? 

“How do I know you’re not lying?” 

That’s nowhere near the top of Iwaizumi’s priority list. It’s a completely useless question actually, but Iwaizumi feels compelled to ask just in case Oikawa decides to be generous. Knowing his name is one thing but Iwaizumi isn’t stupid enough to allow that to be his only means of defense.

Physically speaking, Iwaizumi could probably take him in a fight. What he lacked in height he made up for in muscle, not that that meant anything. Magic is magic and magic could take down a six hundred ton beast in seconds, never mind a mere person. 

Oikawa shrugs, propping his head up on his arm as he looks up at Iwaizumi. 

“You won’t.” 

He’d find some other way to figure out the Wizard since questions clearly weren't the way to go. Iwaizumi resists the urge to snap at him and pushes onward. “Great. Who are you? Why did you help me?” 

Oikawa hums, examining his rings. “Iwa-chan starts with the hard questions first huh? Let's see, you know my name already. You’re welcome for that by the way,” he pauses as if waiting for a reaction. Iwaizumi gives none. “And I’m a Wizard, if that wasn’t obvious enough. And what can I say? I’m a gentleman, I help any person I see in distress.” 

Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa purposely tries to be as annoying as possible or if that’s just how he is. It also does not escape Iwaizumi that he doesn’t really answer either of his questions. 

“I don’t know what you saw but I wasn’t in any distress.” 

Oikawa scoffs. “Iwa-chan gives himself too much credit, if I hadn’t stepped in your handsome face would be sporting a nice bruise right here,” he says as he points at his eye. 

His utter lack of belief in him pisses Iwaizumi off even as he simultaneously tamps down the part of his ego that inflates at the compliment. 

“As much as I appreciate the concern, I was handling it just fine,” to which Oikawa makes a little _pfft_ sound at, “But did the girl actually run away?” Iwaizumi gets quiet, “Is she safe?” 

Oikawa perks up and clasps his hands together, batting his eyelashes. “Iwa-chan is such a man! So caring! It’d be a shame if I told you I actually don’t know where she went…”

Iwaizumi’s heart drops and he jerks forward, striding up to Oikawa and leaning down over him. The Wizard’s smile grows as he tilts his gaze up to face him. 

“That’s not a funny joke,” Iwaizumi all but hisses, “Did you hurt her?”

Maybe he’d judged Oikawa entirely wrong, Maybe he was no different from the stereotype. 

Oikawa’s grin dims slightly. “I’m not that kind of person,” Oikawa says flatly, “To answer you, she saw me and ran away while you were trading insults with the guards. Probably thought I’d join in and make things worse than they already were.”

The years of mediating the fights between his sisters come to Iwaizumi’s mind. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Oikawa searches Iwaizumi’s face for something and doesn’t seem to find it. He dips his head, hair sliding across his forehead until it covers his face. 

Iwaizumi tenses, unsure if he offended Oikawa by accusing him. When he finally looks back up, it’s with a slight pout but an otherwise easygoing expression. 

“It means that you charging in there didn’t make it easier for her. I don’t know if Iwa-chan knows but this,” he waves a hand at Iwaizumi’s face, “can look pretty scary.”

“Didn’t you just call me handsome?” It’s out of his mouth before he can drag it back.

Oikawa smiles, “Oh? Why yes I did. I mean it too,” Oikawa says, eyes shimmering, “But I’m different from a young girl Iwa-chan, you have to understand your expression can be a little intense.” 

Iwaizumi feels his face flush and is grateful Oikawa doesn’t spend more time teasing him. “So I’ve been told.”

“You see then. A brutish looking man approaches and swears up a storm while not letting you talk, is it any mystery why she ran away when she thought some other guy,” Oikawa points to himself, “granted a very attractive guy, might come and make matters worse?” 

_This little shit thinks he’s so great._

Iwaizumi doesn’t deny what Oikawa says. He thought he’d been helping the girl by stepping in but hadn’t considered might've made it harder for her to speak up. He forgets sometimes it’s better to watch from a distance and allow people to figure things out on their own. 

“Looks like Iwa-chan’s thinking pretty hard over there. Any other questions?” 

“Huh? Oh yeah, lots,” Iwaizumi finally backs away from the chaise to stand beside the stone hood of the fireplace. “What was that black swarm chasing us?”

“Oh that. A Witch is after me.” 

“A Witch? Why, what’d you do to her?” 

“Rude, Iwa-chan! Why do you assume I did something to her?” 

“Didn’t you?” Oikawa falls silent and Iwaizumi resists the urge to laugh. 

“You have a knack for doing stuff without explanation and obviously being really fucking annoy-” Iwaizumi cuts himself off. Oikawa looks at him, grinning again, “You think I’m annoying?” 

“I told you not to call me that gross shitty nickname didn’t I?” 

Oikawa’s face splits into laughter. Pure, unfiltered laughter. It might be the most genuine side of Oikawa Iwaizumi’s seen yet. He's taken aback all at once, reminded once more and completely struck by how beautiful he is. 

“That’s all it takes to annoy Iwa-chan,” laughs Oikawa, “How adorable.” Iwaizumi finds himself holding back a smile of his own, coughing in an attempt to cover it up. 

“Shut it Shittykawa,” he mutters as Oikawa laughs harder. 

Somewhere during this conversation Iwaizumi forgot about the caution and dishonesty, or what he was really supposed to be doing in the first place. Iwaizumi admits there’s an innate charisma to the guy and it’s so easy to get caught up in Oikawa’s tempo. He reminds himself to stop it now because he’s _an adult god dammit_ , an adult with _responsibilities, many_ responsibilities.

“Okay I get it, harhar I’m funny. I have more questions, stop laughing.” 

“S-sorry, Iwa-chan is just really cute,” Oikawa rubs his eyes and lets the last of his laughter trail off, sitting up straight from where he’d sprawled out. “Continue. ” 

Iwaizumi grumbles and looks around at the mess around them, “Where are we? I’m assuming this is your house,” he makes a face, “given the state of this place.” 

“Ah, I was hoping you’d ask that. Shrimpy-chan, come down and show our guest around!” At that, Oikawa is up in flourish, tucking his shirt in and flicking a few of his rings onto the ashy fire pit ledge. 

The kid comes running down the stairs instantly, like he’d been sitting at the top listening the whole time, with another jacket—this time a pale turquoise colour—in hand. He holds it open for Oikawa to put on as he ducks his head in greeting. 

“Hello, Iwaizumi-san!” 

“Hello. What’s your real name? I’m sorry you have a horrible nickname too.” Iwaizumi glances at Oikawa who’s fiddling with the jacket cuffs. Cold and regal once more, Oikawa’s appearance alone isenough to throw off anyone trying to get to know him. 

The kid does another deep bow, “I’m Hinata Shouyo, it’s nice to meet you!” 

“Shrimpy-chan here can explain the rest, I promise his word is as good as mine,” Oikawa tells Iwaizumi.

 _Which isn’t very good at all_ , he thinks. 

Oikawa finishes fixing his clothes and walks down another set of stairs at the other side of the room to the door there. 

“What, where are you going? I’m not done,” Iwaizumi can’t get another word in as Oikawa throws a wave over his shoulder and leaves without replying. 

“Oh? He went to Nekoma. Hasn’t been there in a while,” Hinata peers around Iwaizumi to look at the four-coloured panel beside the door frame. Iwaizumi doesn't even want to begin to guess what that means. 

He stares at the door, baffled by Oikawa’s sudden exit, before sighing in exasperation. He’d been led around in a circle—on purpose no doubt— learning absolutely nothing useful. While Iwaizumi never detected any outright deception from Oikawa, lies and deliberate not-truths were different. He’d wasted his time yet again. 

Maybe this is punishment for something, or maybe it's some sort of greater sign that Iwaizumi isn't meant to keep running the clinic. Whatever it is, it's a problem, one that he swore he'd try to fix today. 

Oikawa didn't bring up what he said about Iwaizumi's hand at all, although Iwaizumi's well aware that he didn't either. What was he thinking? Beating around a fucking bush with someone who clearly doesn't care? 

_Great fucking job Hajime. Good to know that a pretty face is all it takes to distract you._

Iwaizumi makes a fist with his hand, flexes his fingers a few times and looks at Hinata, who's now rummaging through a shelf at the opposite wall. 

“Hey how do I get out of here? Is it that door?” Hinata pops his head out of the disaster of papers and books to blink at Iwaizumi, confused.“You wanna leave? I’m supposed to show you around though.” 

“Not much to show me here. It’s just dirt and spiders,” Iwaizumi says irritably. 

Hinata didn’t exactly look like he could help him with his predicament either; what, with the cobweb stuck in his hair and his mismatched shoes? 

_I bet he was forced into servitude here by Oikawa._

“It’s not that bad! You really don’t want to see more of the Castle?” 

“The what? You call this dump a castle?”

Hinata pulls a book out from the back of the shelf and blows off a cloud of dust. “Well that’s what other people like to call it. Oikawa-san doesn’t really call it that but yeah, the Castle. I've also heard some people call it the Moving Castle I guess?” 

Iwaizumi stays right where he is.


	4. Rings and Papers

When Iwaizumi gets home, it’s dark. Hayako is reading a book by the fireplace when he stumbles through the front door.

“How’d it go? I was looking through the news this morning and saw that they’re sending out mandates to the Wizards again.” 

Iwaizumi hangs up his jacket and gets himself a glass of water. “Would you like the long or short story?” And then adds, “Is Hanami out?” It’s not uncommon for May Day nights to be just as, if not more, festive than the daytime celebrations. 

“Short. Hanami left a little while ago.” 

“Right,” Iwaizumi sits down at the kitchen table and starts, “So I found a Wizard. A pretty powerful one too.” 

Hayako closes her book and leans forward, “Who? Is it that Kunimi person? He’s still in Seijoh?” 

“No,” Iwaizumi shakes his head, “Someone stronger.” He leaves out the unnecessary details, sparing his sister from the redundant and the risky—like Oikawa’s name. 

“Really? Who? Are they willing to give us a hand?” 

“Not quite,” and upon seeing Hayako’s expression drop, Iwaizumi quickly adds, “but I’m working on it. I have a plan.” 

That isn't completely a lie. He _is_ working on it, as in, thinking of ways to somehow rope Oikawa into solving their problem without giving up an organ. Hinata made things a little easier now. Iwaizumi could always ask him if Oikawa refused. 

“Working on it? You realize we only have,” Hayako ticks off on her fingers emphatically, “eight days before the Parade celebrations and we miss out on all our business? Not to mention, you don’t know what will happen to your arm if you keep waiting.”

Iwaizumi tries not to let his frustration show. “Yes, I’m well aware. More aware than anyone I’d bet.” 

He doesn’t tell her to cut him some slack or that the person he found is _the_ Wizard on the Hill or that what happened with the box might be his breaking point after months of burn out. He doesn’t tell her he’s been having a harder time paying off their mother’s bills or that with every passing day without a letter from their father, another seed of fear plants itself in his heart.

He doesn’t say any of it.

“Just give me a few days,” Iwaizumi ends up reassuring, “I know you and Hanami are up in the weeds with running packages from home, just bear with it a little more.”

Hayako, seeing the stress on her brother’s face sighs and shakes her head. “You’re right. Sorry. Go get some sleep.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t need to be told twice. He leaves his cup in the sink and stops to pat Hayako on the head as he passes. 

“I’m proud of you for sticking through this weird situation and handling Hanami. It’s been a rough week. Thank you.” 

“No,” she levels him with a heavy look, “I’m not the one that’s done much.” Hayako doesn’t elaborate, Iwaizumi understands her nevertheless.

In his room, something falls out of his pockets as he’s changing. 

Iwaizumi bends down to examine what appears to be a metallic ring with a small blue gemstone at the centre. The jewel shines brightly even in the darkness of his room, as if the light came from within the stone itself rather than as a reflection. Hinata hadn’t given him anything during their little house tour (except maybe a headache) so Iwaizumi chalks it up to another one of Oikawa’s tricks. He leaves the ring on his dresser and goes to bed with more important matters in mind.

\---

The next four days are a rushed mess. 

It’s not that Iwaizumi forgets about Oikawa, oh no, quite the opposite. The Wizard and his Castle plague nearly every one of his waking moments, sometimes as part of his ongoing thought process on how he could get him to help, other times it’s just a memory of Oikawa laughing. 

Iwaizumi chooses to ignore those other times. 

It’s the fact that two orders successively went wrong and Iwaizumi had to personally go apologize and refund the clients. It’s the fact that his mother’s monthly medical report came through. It’s the fact that he couldn’t get past the door to the clinic when he tried because his arm burnt up in electrical fire again.

Iwaizumi desperately wanted to return and talk to Hinata who told him he’d know how to get back, despite providing no instructions on how. 

_“You’re welcome back anytime Iwaizumi-san. I’ll get the Castle to come pick you up.”_

_“How do I, you know, know when or where you’ll be?”_

_“Don’t worry you’ll know.”_

_Don’t worry I’ll know, my ass_. Iwaizumi has no time to figure out riddles. 

It’s no surprise that at the end of the fourth day he finds himself drinking at a seedy pub down in Main Square. 

The place is filled to capacity by the time Iwaizumi arrives after midnight, hot and dank in the late-Spring weather. It isn’t the type of place he’d usually go, it’s loud and smells of sweat, it’s patrons mostly old men with a penchant for hitting their wives and children. But it’s not like he had the money to go to a nicer place anyway. 

Sometime between his third and fourth whiskey, Iwaizumi gets shoved and a fight starts before his alcohol-addled brain can comprehend it. 

It’s cathartic, to just join in on the brawl and just punch someone for no reason. Sober him would feel bad about it, but tipsy him had no qualms about relieving his stress this way. 

It backfires of course, as someone drives their elbow into his stomach and he has to rush outside to avoid projectile vomiting. Iwaizumi slumps down against the bar’s brick wall with nausea and a split lip after he finishes puking, feeling light and on top of the world.

The nighttime air smells like market food, greasy and sweet. Iwaizumi stretches his legs out in front of him, blinking blearily at the shoes. 

“We really have to stop meeting like this Iwa-chan. It’s so unbecoming of you.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t even look up, “You’ve done a terrible job at convincing me you’re not a stalker.” 

“I’d like to think of it more like predestined fate.” 

Iwaizumi snorts, “Fate sure is hilarious. You can call off whatever tracking spell you put on me.”

“It pains me that you’d think I need something as juvenile as a ‘tracking spell’ when the universe keeps bringing us together on its own.”

“ _Keeps?_ We’ve met once.”

“And look at how great that one time was.” There’s a few scuffling sounds as a pair of black leather boots come into Iwaizumi’s field of vision. 

“How come you haven’t come back yet? Was Shrimpy-chan’s hospitality lacking? I was starting to miss you.” 

Iwaizumi grumbles in response, tongue loose and veins thrumming with liquid courage. “Come back? How?” And then laughs, “Why? So I can be toyed with again?” 

“I wasn’t toying with you. But if Iwa-chan wants to be toyed with, I’m happy to oblige,” Oikawa’s voice drops, slow and honey-warm. 

Iwaizumi ignores him and leans his head back against the wall to gaze up at the night sky, eyes passing right over Oikawa’s, not deigning him with a look. A few bright stars wink back at him, persistent even from a million miles away. He thinks he can distantly hear the Castle rumbling by.

“If you’re here to make fun of me, just leave. I’m in no mood for another one of your games Oikawa. Unless you’re willing to help me, stay away.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t care much for being careful anymore. 

_“You know Oikawa-san would never hurt you right? I think he’s more scared than scary, but don’t tell him I said that.”_

Oikawa hums and extends his hand out. Iwaizumi regards it warily. 

“I never said I wouldn’t help you.”

“You never said you _would_ either.”

“You never asked for my help.”

“Because you left before I could!”

“Is that supposed to be my fault?”

“You-” Iwaizumi bites his tongue and his face heats. In response, he grabs Oikawa’s outstretched hand and yanks him down until they’re eye level. Oikawa goes easily, his wrist startlingly cold in Iwaizumi’s grip. 

“Then here’s me asking, you little shit,” Iwaizumi grits out and then softer, “Please, help me.” The slight tone of helplessness makes him inwardly cringe and with their faces this close, Iwaizumi can see the small pleased smile that spreads across Oikawa’s lips. 

“Help you with what exactly?”

Iwaizumi raises his cloth-wrapped hand, “Like you don’t already know.”

“No I don’t think I do. C’mon Iwa-chan, use your big boy words.” 

Iwaizumi silently sends thanks to Hanami for the years of patience he’s had to develop and the alcohol for mellowing him out. If Oikawa came at him like this a few hours ago, Iwaizumi would’ve thrown a punch and left.

“There was a package with this magic label sent to us a while back. When I tried to open it-” he suddenly chokes, throat closing up and going dry. 

“When you tried to open it…?” 

Iwaizumi can’t get the words out. It’s like his voice physically forgets how to form the sounds he needs, even as his mind screams them. He starts panicking and struggles, wheezing out random sounds before a coughing fit overtakes him. The motion makes his split lip crack open again, blood welling out and down his chin. 

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi sucks the torn part of lip into his mouth, a coppery taste flooding his dry mouth instantly. His shoulders shake as his voice returns to him. 

Oikawa wriggles out of Iwaizumi’s grip and reaches for his injured hand, an unspoken question passing between them. Iwaizumi lets Oikawa unwrap the cloth, expressionless even when he sees the skin beneath. He stares in silence. 

“I don’t know what just happened, that wasn’t what I-” but stops as Oikawa runs his fingers up Iwaizumi’s forearm, gently tracing the pathway of his veins, featherlight. Goosebumps erupt in the wake of his touch. 

It’s strangely intimate.

Iwaizumi doesn’t speak as he watches a little furrow form between Oikawa’s brows, like someone had pressed their nail there in a half crescent shape. He wants to smooth it away and the atmosphere almost makes him do it, but he doesn’t. 

Of course he doesn’t.

“How would you feel about staying with Shrimpy and I for a bit?” 

Iwaizumi startles, “What? Why?” 

Oikawa’s eyes are bright when he glances at him, much like that little gemstone on the riing with its own light. He stops the path he’d been tracing and lets his thumb rest against Iwaizumi’s pulse.

“Just in case I get lonely and start missing Iwa-chan again,” but quickly backtracks when he sees Iwaizumi’s deadpan expression. “Truth is I don't know. Like I said, it’s powerful sorcery—or, a curse I guess would be more accurate. I haven’t seen magic used this way in a long time and it seems like whatever spell is holding you won’t let you talk about it either. I need to observe for a bit before I can undo it. “

_A curse._

A helpless feeling grows in Iwaizumi, earlier comfort shattered completely. Closing his eyes, he starts to feel sick to his stomach. This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t what he expected. How strong is this magic that even the famed Wizard on the Hill couldn’t remove it? Who would do this to him? _Them_? His _family_?

“Iwa-chan.”

_I’m stuck like this. Oh my fuck, I am stuck like this._

“Iwa-chan.”

_I can’t go back into the clinic, I’ll have to keep this hand covered forever, there’s nothing I can do._

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa brings his attention back. His heart’s doing a weird panicky flutter and he’s sure Oikawa can feel it, the pulse beneath his finger jumping rapidly. 

“How long is _a bit_?” Iwaizumi asks quietly, bracing for the worst. 

“This," Oikawa squeezes his arm, “I don’t know. But I can seal whatever magic is on that box so it’s rendered null for now.” Iwaizumi is surprised by how genuine he sounds, which really shouldn’t be a surprise anymore, given that while Oikawa is an annoying evasive bastard, he doesn’t seem to be a liar. 

It temporarily calms Iwaizumi, that sincerity in his voice and his guileless expression. 

Oikawa stands and pulls Iwaizumi up. He’s a little unsteady on his feet, his ribs are sore from the bar fight and his mouth tastes like blood and his leftover dinner. 

“What do you want in exchange?” 

“Nothing,” Oikawa lets him go and tucks his hands behind his back. “My services are always prepaid. Consider it a thank you.” 

“A thank you for what? I’ve never paid you before.” 

“An I-owe-you then.” Iwaizumi regards him incredulously, running through his memory for when he’d done anything that’d warrant Oikawa owing him a favour. 

Oikawa laughs, “Don’t strain yourself thinking Iwa-chan. Do you trust me?” 

“Not in the slightest,” Iwaizumi quips back. “But, if you’re serious about nullifying the magic on the box, thank you. Seriously. I don’t know why you’re doing this,” Oikawa smiles in response, “but I guess I’ll go with your whole predestined fate thing.” 

He’ll leave Oikawa and his many mysteries as they are.

For now. 

“Fate indeed. Here,” Oikawa slips off one of his teardrop earrings and clenches his hand around it. There’s a lightning fast glow of blue around his fist, so quick Iwaizumi might’ve missed it if he weren’t staring, and then Oikawa is holding out a piece of paper to him. It’s the first time Iwaizumi’s seen magic up close like this and he can’t help but lean in closer in fascination. 

“It’s a talisman. Have someone else put this little guy near the box and it should do the job.” 

“Someone else? Why can’t I do it?” 

Oikawa passes the paper to Iwaizumi who holds it carefully. “Unless otherwise commanded, magic is naturally drawn to magic of similar type. Your arm is charged up with whatever is on that box, that’s why I’m guessing it hurts when you try to get close, yes?” Iwaizumi nods. “Unless someone touches the label, it should be pretty stable. That’s why you need someone else to do it, unless you want your arm exploding from the magic trying to escape back to its source.” 

Iwaizumi winces at the image Oikawa describes. “How will a flimsy piece of paper hold off magic that strong?”

“Well Iwa-chan, a flimsy piece of paper managed to curse you so I wouldn’t be so quick to judge.” 

“Oi, that’s not what I meant.” 

“Besides,” Oikawa talks through him, “If it doesn’t work completely—which I highly doubt—it’ll negate enough for you to pick up the box and bring it to me.” 

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes, “How will I know it worked if someone else does it?” 

“Must I explain everything to Iwa-chan?” Oikawa sighs, “Obviously when you can get close without your arm hurting.” 

“Oh. Right. In my defence I don’t know much about this magic shit.” 

“Common sense isn’t anything magical, Iwa-chan. My offer still holds by the way,” Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at him, questioning. “Come live with us for a while,” and then adds with a wink “so I can observe this curse of yours of course.”

Iwaizumi huffs a laugh at the ridiculousness of this night. “And here I thought it was really because you’d miss me. As much as that’d help, I can’t. Not now.”

“Why not?”

“I have other responsibilities. This,” Iwaizumi flexes his fingers in front of him, “is just one of many.”

“Hm,” Oikawa reaches out to swipe at the corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth. “I suspect we’ll be seeing each other soon anyway. You know where to find me.” 

“I don’t actually,” Iwaizumi replies as he lets Oikawa wipe the blood on the side of his lip.

Oikawa steps away with a smile, “I left you a ring didn’t I?” 

_So it is from him._

“So? How’s that supposed to bring me to you?” 

“Ah I’m tired from answering all these questions. Think and you’ll know.” Oikawa nods his head at the talisman. “You should get going Iwa-chan. It’s late and you look like you can use some rest.” Iwaizumi grimaces at that, suddenly very aware that he probably smells like vomit. He flushes and turns to leave. He takes a few steps before pausing. 

“Oikawa?”

“Yes Iwa-chan?”

“Thank you again,” he looks over his shoulder at Oikawa, “I mean it.”

Standing there against the dim gas-lamp street lights, Oikawa doesn’t quite look human. Iwaizumi guesses that it makes sense, Oikawa _isn’t_ human, not like him or anyone he's met before; he’s something else entirely. Something part human and something wholly otherworldly. He wonders if all Wizards are like this. 

Oikawa shakes his head imperceptibly as an answer but Iwaizumi had already turned away. He watches him go until his figure is long gone, melding with the shadows and disappearing.

Iwaizumi would never know about the sad faraway look that passes over his eyes.


	5. The Direction Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case there's confusion, the prefectures of the school's are different countries and the schools themselves are cities/towns. 
> 
> as always, please let me know your thoughts and talk to me in the comments !! :)

_(Shiratorizawa, capital of Miyagi, two days earlier)_

“Ushijima-san.”

He looks up from the documents he’s reading. “Yes?”

Kageyama Tobio shuffles into the room with an envelope held up between white-gloved fingers. He drops it atop the papers on Ushijima’s desk. “An ultimatum. Sounds serious this time.” 

Ushijima frowns, slipping the letter out of the wax broken envelope and skimming over the content. 

On the paper is a written warning from the royal ministry in Hyogo, demanding them to remove the additional troops from the border or be attacked without further notice. 

“This... What has his Highness said?” Ushijima’s voice holds little emotion, gaze unwavering. Kagyama’s always kind of admired that about him; immovable even as they hurtle toward potential doom. 

"He hasn't seen it yet. I figured you should see it first."

"That’s good. Ensure that he is not burdened with this. How many new troops have been sent over?”

Kageyama rattles of the information. “Battalion 73 and 60 arrived a few days ago. 24 is currently moving down to assist.”

Ushijima thinks carefully. An influx of around fifteen hundred people wasn't a lot relative to the current scale of the border conflict, but it was enough to put pressure on Hyogo’s capital which was only a few hundred miles south. There’d been talk of sending in more but was ultimately shut down by Tenma, who was careful that such a large show of aggression could mean a retaliatory attack without warning from Inarizaki.

Seems like he was right.

“Inarizaki choosing to send a warning beforehand is quite odd,” he ends up saying. 

“That’s what I thought too,” Kageyama agrees. “If they were really so concerned about the capital, they would’ve sent their own troops up to the border too. They're not lacking in manpower. Moreover,” he lets out a long sigh, “Miya Osamu is missing. I have no doubt they'll be pinning that one on us.”

Ushijima stiffens at that. “When was he heard from last?” . 

“His last direct correspondence was two weeks earlier to Akaashi-san but I last tracked him in Inarizaki five days ago. He disappeared from my radar.” 

“Is it possible he discovered your tracking?”

“It is, but it wouldn’t have been easy to conceal himself."

For one of Hyogo’s only foreign emissaries willing to engage in diplomacy with Miyagi to go missing just as their Army sends in more troops is far too convenient to be coincidental. That conclusion is easy enough to reach but for what purpose? To launch a precursory assault? 

Throughout the war, Miya Osamu’s been Shiratorizawa's most reliable source of communication with Inarizaki. He was a good mediator in otherwise tense negotiations and handled his brother—Hyogo’s Royal Wizard—well enough to have a civil discussion with. 

He's a dangerously delicate piece to play. Especially at this stage in the war. 

“The ultimatum is a diversion,” Ushijima says with a note finality, striding over to the coat rack by the door with the letter in hand. “They do not care about the troops. Inarizaki will be on the offensive using the basis of their missing advisor as justification, like you said. ”

Kageyama joins him, frowning. “Atsumu is dumb but he isn’t stupid. He knows Miyagi will attack in return. With our increase in soldiers so close to the capital, I’d say they’re in a riskier position than we are.”

Ushijima slides on his coat. “You are correct. That is what sane and rational people would think. Unfortunately I cannot speak to Miya Atsumu's sanity or rationality. I am afraid there is something else here that we are missing. Come,” Kageyama follows as he locks up the door to his study, “We need to speak with Udai-san.” 

\---

It works. 

Iwaizumi can’t believe he doubted Oikawa for a second. 

He happily moves the box to their attic without a single flare, jolt, or stab of pain in his arm. It’s a massive relief, one that Iwaizumi may be forever beholden to Oikawa for. The sheer amount of weight lifted off his shoulders nearly makes him forget about the fact that he’s still cursed.

In his mind, it’s one big victory off of a long list of many more to go. 

It’s fine, he’d take it one at a time. 

May Day came and went with all its festivities, customers spilling through the shop's front doors to get a closer look at their floral arrangements and jars of vibrant powders. Iwaizumi and Hayako worked hard, packaging this and that, while Hanami waved colourful flyers and yelled advertisements down in Market Square. It’s hectic and tiring, but it’s also the most carefree Iwaizumi’s felt in months.

They end the week in the green. So far in the green that they eat out to celebrate. 

They enjoy mouth-watering lamb roasts and sweet crumbling desserts at a nice inn near their house, laughing and basking in the vestiges of May Day’s merriment. 

Later when they walk home, Hanami stops to buy fizzy ale from a street vendor and they bump glasses with a loud _cheers!_ while fireworks and colorful lanterns light up the sky. 

A fitting conclusion to a week of near emotional collapse, if you ask Iwaizumi.

When they finally return home, Iwaizumi gets ready for bed with his stomach full and enough cash to pay for his mother’s next medical bill. He’s not at all tired, still riding the wave of the day’s bustling energy and he smiles when he thinks of who made it possible. 

Speaking of.

Iwaizumi looks for the peculiar little ring Oikawa left him. The blue light catches his eye easily and he picks it up for closer inspection. 

It’s actually quite nice, not overly gaudy and designed simply. It’d be the type of ring Iwaizumi might buy for himself, if he bought that sort of stuff. 

It makes him remember the tangle of silver on Oikawa’s fingers, bands and bands of plain rings stacked to capacity on his hands. None of the ones Iwaizumi saw were particularly eye-catching and he wonders why Oikawa wears them, if not for appearance.

The ring in his hand gives a little buzz suddenly and the gemstone flickers a few times before a thin beam of blue light shoots out from it, in the direction of his wardrobe. Iwaizumi nearly drops it in surprise. 

“What the hell…”

He approaches his wardrobe slowly, the beam of light steadily growing brighter. The wooden panels creak when he opens them with a sharp inhale, bracing for something to pop out. Nothing does, but in place of where his clothes usually hang, there’s a pool of black nothingness.

Just like the portal Oikawa drew up that day in the alley. 

_So this is what Hinata and Oikawa meant._

Iwaizumi slides the ring onto his index finger and reaches his hand in. As expected, he doesn’t meet the solid wall that should be there. There’s a familiar feeling of air collapsing inward that drags him forward slightly. He yanks his arm back.

He wants to go. 

He wants to see Oikawa. 

Iwaizumi keeps the ring on as he throws on a shirt and scrambles downstairs to get out a bunch of baking supplies. He doesn’t bother to be quiet, knowing for a fact neither of his sisters are asleep. 

He considers what Oikawa would like and almost immediately answers himself with _something sweet._

His high spirits from earlier turn into something more frenetic as he works. The pace at which he finishes baking would be embarrassing if he weren’t thrumming with nervous energy. At one point he questions what he's doing but it doesn't stop him.

He leaves the remaining loaf of milk bread on the counter for his sisters and heads back to his room. He opts out of changing into something nicer, staying in his ratty pajamas to convince himself that he doesn’t care what Oikawa thinks of him. 

The tumble through the darkness is just as dizzying as the first time except Iwaizumi manages to land on his feet. Barely. He squeezes his eyes shut to keep from falling over and when he opens them again Oikawa is there, staring right back at him. 

“Isn’t this a surprise?” he muses, “I didn’t think Iwa-chan would figure it out this quick.”

Iwaizumi scowls. “Shut the fuck up.”

Oikawa’s lounging on the same chaise in front of the fireplace, wearing a loose white tunic that falls open at his shoulders. The firelight casts long shadows across his face and shines off the silk fabric of his shirt.

“Visiting so late at night, I didn’t realize Iwa-chan was so bold.” Oikawa gives him a once-over, “I see you’ve dressed to really set the mood.”

“The mood is I was getting ready to sleep, Shittykawa."

“I mean I appreciate any clothing that’s easy to take off.”

Iwaizumi feels a throbbing start in his temple. "You're really making me regret coming here."

"Oh no. How do I make it worth your while?" Oikawa grins, a flash of white teeth in the dim room. "Tell me." 

"My clothes stay on, that's how." Iwaizumi coughs awkwardly and turns the conversation to the reason he visited in the first place. 

"I just came to let you know that the talisman worked. Everything turned out okay.” 

Oikawa pouts. “Just okay?”

“Great actually. I, uh, made this as a thank you,” Iwaizumi holds out the wrapped bundle he’s holding. “I know you said you owe me but it doesn’t feel right to just take one-sidely I guess. I didn’t know what you liked so I decided—well no, I thought something sweet would fit your tastes but nothing too sugary because we tend to have lower tolerance for it when we’re older, so I just made milk bread. It’s not much of a repayment but my family and friends all seem to like it-”

“Iwa-chan, you’re rambling.” 

“Oh. My bad,” Iwaizumi rubs the back of his neck. “You can go ahead and try a piece if you want. It’s pretty much fresh out of the oven so it probably tastes the best right now. No hard feelings if you don’t like it. ” 

Oikawa strides over and takes the napkin wrapped treat. He stares down at the cut squares of bread, puffy and golden brown with an unreadable expression on his face for a while. 

Iwaizumi clears his throat, embarrassed. “Try it.” 

“You made this just now? For me?”

“That’s what I said.” 

Oikawa takes a small bite and chews. After a moment, his eyes slide shut and he moans obscenely.

“Oh my god, this is so good.” He takes a bigger bite, and another and another, until his cheeks are bulging with food. He looks like a kid, eating messily like that. He manages to finish over half in the span of a few seconds. 

Iwaizumi smiles. “I’m glad you like them.” 

“Like them? I love them.” Oikawa pauses in his chewing, “You didn’t have to.” 

“I know. I wanted to. I don’t think you realize just how grateful I am for what you’ve done. Free of cost too, I just…you and your mysteries and predestined fate bullshit really saved me.” Iwaizumi flushes, struggling to hold eye contact as he speaks. 

He's never thought of himself as a particularly prideful person. He always gives credit where credit is due, but something about Oikawa being on the receiving end makes him a little sheepish. 

Oikawa grins smugly. “Should’ve trusted me from the beginning. Oikawa-san is never wrong.” He finishes the rest of the bread and says with his mouth full, “Ah right! Have you thought about my offer?” 

“Huh?” Iwaizumi blinks. “Oh. No, I told you-”

“I know what you told me. The circumstances are different now though." 

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “They're not. I still have a job and a family I need to watch over.” Even though he doesn’t say it, Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa can somehow hear the _unlike you_.

“Is that more important than your curse?" Oikawa stops to swallow. "Magic is a finicky thing Iwa-chan, you don’t know what will happen in the future.” 

“My responsibilities will always come before me, Oikawa. Of course it’s more important. And plus, you sealed the magic on the box already. My arm won’t be reacting to any-” Iwaizumi breaks off, realization slamming into him. 

The box wasn’t the only time.

“How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes. “Were you just waiting for me to realize or did you have something to do with it?” He doesn’t want to think that Oikawa was somehow involved and lied to him. He just baked _bread_ for the guy, god dammit. 

"You're losing me Iwa-chan. Did I have something to do with your-" 

“Hold on,” Iwaizumi backtracks before he jumps to conclusions. “The black swarm that was chasing you, sent by the Witch. It gave me the same reaction as the box, that's why you brought up the 'powerful sorcery' in the first place. Could _she_ be the one that sent the box?"

Oikawa gives him an incredulous look. “What did you do that would make a Witch come after you? Us magical beings usually stay away from humans,” he looks at Iwaizumi, “Unless we have a reason.”

“Nothing! I've done nothing! You said magic is attracted to similar types right? Maybe whatever magic she was using for that swarm is just similar to whatever was on the label," reasons Iwaizumi, mostly for himself.

Oikawa hums. “Perhaps. Finding that Witch might give me some clue into what it is that’s holding you though."

No matter how Iwaizumi evaluates the situation, he can’t fathom how a Witch would know who he is. Maybe his memory's just failing him these days but just like how he can't think of what Oikawa supposedly owes him, he also can’t remember any instance where he’d done something that’d warrant being cursed.

“Iwa-chan has responsibilities,” Oikawa says after a moment. “But staying under my watch and tending to those other duties are not mutually exclusive.” 

Iwaizumi is immediately wary at his use of “mutually exclusive.” Oikawa lifts his own hand and wriggles his fingers, silver glinting.

“The ring. It will always point you in my direction, no matter you are or where I am. As long as you wear it, I can see you too.”

“So you did put a tracking spell on me.”

“I found you at the pub without the ring didn’t I? It’s not tracking you. Magic is a two way street.” Oikawa walks back to the fireplace and flops down onto the chaise. His collar slips down his shoulder, firelight cutting deep contours into the hollow of his collarbones. Iwaizumi averts his gaze. 

“Therefore," Oikawa continues, "while the ring shows you the way to me, it also tells me where you are.” 

"So you can see whatever I’m doing...?” Iwaizumi balks at the implications. 

“Not so much see, as _sense_. Don’t worry I’m not spying on you when you’re changing.” Oikawa laughs, as if the image is hilarious. “Your virtue is safe with me.”

“It’s safer in the hands of literally anyone else, Shittykawa. I’m not worried about that.” He was moreso thinking about his sisters (and to a lesser extent, when he's using the washroom). "I'll keep the ring on then."

“Great! Now won’t you spend your nights with me Iwa-chan?” 

Iwaizumi chokes on his own spit. “What?” 

“Not like _that_ ," Oikawa rolls his eyes, an amused smile playing on his lips. "I mean like today. Just drop by so I can check on you at the end of the day."

Iwaizumi pauses. Given how much Oikawa’s done for him, it's a pretty reasonable request. Nothing to lose, everything to gain. An hour of his time everyday couldn’t hurt. 

“...Alright.”

“Alright?” Oikawa’s eyebrows shoot up, like he’d been expecting him to put up a fight.

Iwaizumi shrugs. “It’s a good idea. The faster I can be rid of this,” he lifts his right hand, “The better. But, I’m agreeing on the condition that you’ll promise to lay off all the gross teasing.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I never tease you.” 

“Yeah and I never want to punch you for being fucking annoying. Guess we’re both liars.” 

“That's rude Iwa-chan.”

“A compromise then," Iwaizumi is after all, a fair person. "I’ll bring you milk bread if you limit your teasing to once per meeting.” 

It’s strange that he’s the one making the bargains here. As powerful Oikawa is, Iwaizumi almost feels like he has the upperhand. 

Oikawa groans and lets his head fall back, exposing the column of his throat and the thin gold chain there. “Fine but I live with Shrimpy-chan who can’t even tell sugar from salt, so throw in a few cooked meals and you have a deal.”

“Got it. Speaking of Hinata, where is he?” Iwaizumi hadn’t seen or heard him this entire time. He hopes he didn't hear his embarrassing gratitude speech.

Oikawa waves a dismissive hand. “I think he’s sleeping. He might be out somewhere too, I don't know.” 

“I can see why Hinata would want to purposely switch the sugar and salt when he cooks for you.”

“Hey I’m an excellent caretaker.” Iwaizumi gives Oikawa a disbelieving look and spins in a circle, gesturing at the mess around them. 

From the cobwebs to the ash spilling over the sides of the fireplace to the absolute disaster that might be a dining room, there didn’t seem to be a single clean surface in sight. Except maybe the couch Oikawa sits on. 

“Yeah, clearly the best,” Iwaizumi scoffs. “So how do I get back home from here?” 

“Leaving so soon?” Oikawa pats the empty spot next to him. “It’s late. Just stay over.” 

"I’d rather not sleep in a spider infestation.”

“It's no infestation, the spiders and I are equal cohabitants here. Shrimpy-chan has no problem with them.” 

“Hinata also lets you call him a crustacean as a nickname, he's not a good measure of what's acceptable. If we’re done here,” Iwaizumi bats at the air in front of him, feeling as if the dust is collecting around him. “I’ll see you tomorrow. How do I leave?”

“Well how did you leave last time?”

“Hinata made the portal, as if you didn’t know.”

“Hmph. Iwa-chan is no fun.” Oikawa stands and sulks his way over to a wall. He spreads his fingers over the plaster and a portal spreads over the surface. “Here you are. Remember to bring the box tomorrow night.” 

Iwaizumi makes a mental reminder to do so as he passes the Wizard to go. He jerks back in shock when Oikawa pecks him on the cheek. He doesn't get a chance to whack Oikawa in the head in return as he's already falling into the portal. 

He hears a quiet, "Sleep well, Iwa-chan" and then nothingness.

\---

_(Somewhere near the Hyogo-Miyagi border, present day)_

“About time 'Samu.”

The billowing spiral of leaves circle in the air a few more times before settling into the form of Miya Atsumu. He keels over as his figure solidifies, clothes singed and bleeding. 

“Shit, what happened out there?”

A weary glare. “The Wizard on the Hill happened. Switch us back now.” 

A slight tremor vibrates through the air as Atsumu returns into his own body, wincing. 

A second later, Miya Osamu emerges from within the thicket of trees that lines one side of the grassy plain that separates Inarizaki from the border. 

“That bastard has to go,” Atsumu grunts, legs stinging from the million little cuts there. "Should've dealt with him early."

“Not yet, Atsumu.” Osamu stretches his arms, stiff but uninjured. He looks out over the horizon in Miyagi's direction. 

“Not yet.”


End file.
